


I'm What You Need, What You Need

by alienharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Desk Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Office Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-01-10 05:51:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienharry/pseuds/alienharry
Summary: Overworked, under-rested, and a little sex happy, Louis accidentally sends his boss a rather explicit photo of himself. Being a personal assistant was never supposed to be this high risk.





	I'm What You Need, What You Need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [summerwine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerwine/gifts).



> Title is from _What You Need_ by The Weeknd
> 
> I'd of course like to thank my lovely betas [Ella](http://spnife.tumblr.com) and [Mehgan](http://mehconomancy.tumblr.com). As always, they're a powerhouse of help in my life. Also thank you to [Sammie](http://britpickerhl.tumblr.com) for making this _way_ less American than it was (Paychecks are _not_ called paychecks???).

Louis never works on weekends. 

It’s a practice he’s carried over from his education to his professional life. When he was in school, weekends were something of a prize, a treasure that he valued with everything in himself. Because his weeks are so work-heavy, it’s nice having two full days just for himself.

It’s not that he has important things to do on the weekend - quite the opposite actually. The weekends are when Louis catches up on the shows he watches, pursues his hobbies (read: second job), and - most importantly - sleeps in. In his life, there has to be a clear separation between work and home. It was his only demand when he was hired as a personal assistant for the CEO of Manchester’s biggest non-profit organization. 

He had been  _ very _ specific and persistent about needing weekends off, yet, here he is, just like every other Saturday, rushing to put together the weekly agenda for his boss. The journal Louis keeps for Harry’s appointments, meetings, and other general nonsense that Louis is forced to keep track of is filled to the brim, stuffed with excess sheets of paper, and having to rummage through it to locate everything is a pain in the ass. 

Putting together a weekly agenda takes roughly three hours, and is something Louis would gladly do, if it were actually possible on a weekday. But, due to Harry’s hectic schedule, meetings are being booked and adjusted and flat out  _ cancelled _ up until the very moment Louis’ shift ends on Friday. Trying to build the agenda even a moment before then is basically a waste of time. He doesn’t want to work well into the night on Friday, so Saturday is his only opportunity to get this done. 

He would still be fine if he could come in early Monday morning to do it, but Harry requires his weekly schedule to be sent before eight o’clock Saturday night so he can prepare himself over the course of Sunday and have his materials ready for each meeting.

It’s reasonable, Louis understands this, but when he explicitly requested his weekends off, he meant  _ all _ weekend. 

And maybe, just  _ maybe _ , Louis wouldn’t mind doing the work so much if he hadn’t already set aside Saturdays for his second job. Sure, he never has to leave his house to do it, but he doubts Harry Styles would be alright with Louis taking pictures of himself using various sex toys at the same time he handles Harry’s agenda. 

So here he is, sitting at his kitchen counter at eleven at night with seven unanswered texts from Harry on his phone, putting the finishing touches on the agenda. He goes over it twice just in case and then sends it off. 

Louis is never supposed to work weekends, but he always does. 

␥

Louis likes getting to the office early in the morning. It allows him time to prepare Harry’s coffee properly and print out his agenda for the day. This morning, he also has a small stack of manilla folders sitting next to him that he composed last night, each containing Harry’s notes from every prior meeting he’s had with each of today’s clients. It’s not a required part of the job, but Louis doesn’t mind taking the extra step - especially after a weekend in which Louis was late with Harry’s agenda. 

This doesn’t happen often, but every few weeks Louis gets an… assignment from his second job. He’s usually smart enough to handle Harry’s schedule before he starts on the other assignment, but sometimes his excitement gets the better of him, and he’s left in a panic Saturday night, rushing to put together Harry’s weekly meetings into something of a schedule that hopefully looks professional enough to keep him from being chewed out. 

Not that Harry’s  _ rude _ \- no, not at all. In fact, the man is one of the most understanding people Louis has met in his professional life. Every so often, on the occasion that Louis does fuck up with sending the schedule, Harry just sits him down and explains why it can’t keep happening. 

He’s, just, intimidating. He runs the biggest non-profit organization in Manchester, and he’s probably one of the most powerful CEOs in northern Britain - not to mention how undeniably gorgeous he is. 

“Good morning, Louis.” 

Louis jumps at the greeting behind him, knocking the files slightly askew in his shock. He fixes them quickly before turning towards his boss and smiling. “Good morning, sir,” he returns brightly. “You’ve got a nine-thirty meeting with Ben from PR, and then at eleven - ”

“I’m aware of my morning meetings,” Harry interrupts. He’s not donning his usual smile or excitable tone, and Louis knows immediately that he’s in for a talking to. “I went over my schedule that you sent - albeit late - Saturday night.”

“Of course. Sorry about that, sir.”

Harry nods as he walks around to his desk chair, but he doesn’t take a seat- doesn’t even look down at his desk. His eyes are focused intensely on Louis, making him want to run and hide. “I’m not going to say it’s okay or that it’s forgiven, lest you get it in your head that it’s alright for this to continue,” he explains. “Would you mind taking a seat, Louis?”

“O-of course, sir.” 

Louis rushes to sit in the seat across from Harry, who still hasn’t taken a seat himself. Instead, Harry walks around to the side of the desk and flips through the stack of folders Louis carefully placed out. His hip is popped against the desk, and he’s not making eye contact or even saying a word to Louis. 

After he’s looked through a few, Harry closes the files and turns to Louis. His hands are gently folded in front of him, and Louis’ sweating. 

“I understand that your job isn’t easy, Louis,” Harry begins. “There’s a lot to be done in your position, and I’m not exactly an easy man to please, but I don’t think it’s too out there for me to ask you to have my agenda emailed to me by eight pm sharp, do you?”

Louis shakes his head to avoid the urge to wince. “No, sir.”

He had known that this was where things were headed, but he still feels so unprepared. Harry’s standing a few heads taller than Louis in their current position and looking down on him in disappointment. It’s a power move, Louis knows, and it sure does work to make him feel absolutely powerless. 

“No, good,” Harry nods. “We’re on the same page with that. It  _ isn’t _ unreasonable for me to have my agenda at a certain time, and yet last night you were over three hours late with your delivery, so - ”

“I’m sorry, sir. I - ”

“Please don’t cut me off, Louis, it’s incredibly disrespectful,” Harry insists, and Louis has to bite his tongue to stop another apology from tumbling out. “As I was saying, we both agree that my expectations aren’t asking too much - that much has been made clear. So I don’t understand why you so frequently break your deadline. You seem to go above and beyond in the office, but this one simple task - just one email before eight - seems to make you forget just how good of an assistant you can be. Why is that?”

“Sir,” Louis hesitates, “if I may.”

“Of course.”

Louis thinks through what he’s about to say. He doesn’t want to accidentally say something that could get him fired, but he needs to make it clear that he’s trying his hardest and that sometimes his work gets the best of him. It’s not an easy thing to do with Harry’s eyes trained on him, as if he’s watching every gear turn in his head, cataloging every cog making its way around his thoughts. 

“When I applied for this position,” Louis starts slowly, “I requested weekends off for very specific reasons, but every Saturday I end up doing hours of work just in sorting through your meetings and organizing them into a neat schedule for you.” Harry doesn’t seem to look annoyed or agitated, so Louis continues, “Sometimes I do break the deadline, yes, but I do have other interests I pursue, and sometimes the agenda on Saturday is just a step too much, but I always manage to have it to you before midnight.”

“That’s all well and good, Louis,” Harry nods, and Louis feels the pressure that’s been building up in his chest lighten. “And please note that I  _ do _ appreciate how much extra work you put in here, but arranging my agenda is something that can be done Friday night before you go home, so nobody is  _ requiring _ you to work weekends.”

Louis wants to speak up and mention how late he’d have to be at the office on a Friday night for that to happen, but he doesn’t want to tempt his fate with where things are going. Right now, it only seems to be a talking to, a discussion between employee and employer, but were Louis to bring up more arguments, it could quickly turn into something more. 

The work may be difficult, and he might not get his weekends completely free, but this beats waiting tables at a restaurant like he did in uni. Louis seals his mouth closed, not letting his protests break free.

“As for the deadlines,” Harry continues, “they are set as they are for a reason. I have other interests that I pursue as well, and none of them include waiting up until midnight for you to get the schedule in. If the schedule is too much work for you, I understand, and I’ve always said that I wouldn’t mind bringing in a second assistant, but doing that would involve you shifting down to a part-time employee, and neither of us want that, do we?”

“No, sir,” Louis replies immediately, hoping his face doesn’t reveal how incredibly pathetic he feels. He’s already working two jobs and struggling to pay his rent; he doesn’t need to be pushed down to part-time and have his income cut in half. 

Harry smiles, but it’s not quite all there. “I’m glad we’re on the same page with this,” he observes. “Now, Louis. It’s important to me that you know how much I appreciate your work. You’re probably the best PA that I’ve had since getting into this business, and I would do anything to keep from losing you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m afraid to pull you into this office and reprimand you,” he clarifies. “Your work this past week slipped, and in my business, that won’t slide. I don’t want this to happen again, or else your punishment will be much harsher than just a simple talking to. Do we understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect,” Harry beams. “Now as for your work this morning - it’s going to make my meetings go much smoother. This is the type of work I like to see from you. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Harry dismisses Louis from his office, and he leaves, dragging his feet along the way. He feels properly scolded and ashamed of his behavior on Saturday. 

He hates when he has to be reprimanded, and he hates that he brought it on himself, but most of all, he hates how much he loves seeing Harry hold his title above Louis’ head, displaying his power and talking about  _ punishing _ Louis. 

All-in-all, it’s been a day of mixed emotions, and it’s not even started yet. 

␥

He’s in the middle of scheduling an interview with the BBC when the email hits. It pops up in in the corner of his computer screen, and Louis all but flails in trying to get the message off his screen before someone else reads it and gets the wrong idea about the type of business he does. 

Not that it would  _ really _ be the wrong idea. 

When Louis was fresh out of college, still looking at different career opportunities that wouldn’t require moving away from home, he had to find a way to make money, and it came to him in the form of a skeevy-looking sexual novelty website. They had posted a  _ Wanted _ ad asking for young men and women to model their sex toys. 

All it required was a full body picture, and Louis is nothing if not confident in his body. He made sure his face was left out of it, then he happily sent it off, not yet aware that two weeks later he’d be receiving a sex toy in the mail and an employment form. 

As time has passed, he’s become one of the main models on the site, and once or twice a month, he’ll receive a complimentary toy in the mail with a request for how to pose in the picture. It’s become his secondary source of income now that he’s got a full-time job, but it doesn’t mean he enjoys the work any less. 

The emails always come in when the toys are enroute, and every time Louis gets them, he feels a surge of blood flow south in anticipation. 

Those days are his favorite. 

␥

Another work week comes and goes, and Louis actually finishes Harry’s schedule early on Saturday. He doesn’t send it just yet, as he still wants to check it for any errors, but it’s typed up, organized, and saved on his hard drive. 

And Louis feels great about it. 

A package is delivered a little while later as he’s cleaning up after dinner. The box is inconspicuous, but he knows exactly the type of item awaiting his attention in the cardboard confinement. 

Were he still fresh out of college, he’d be rushing forward to unbox everything and get right to work, but now that he’s an adult with a full-time job and some patience, he makes himself finish cleaning, setting the box on his bed to give himself some time. 

He manages to complete everything he has to, leaving no dish unwashed - though he does almost break a glass in his haste - before going into his room. It’s been a solid 3 years of unboxing toys and modelling them, but the excitement never quite seems to lessen. There’s always the charged thrum of nerves that burns through him as he uncovers the special item. 

This time, wrapped neatly in tissue paper and hidden behind a wall of bubble wrap, there’s a medium-sized butt plug staring Louis in the face. It’s sleek and black in color, and it isn’t too heavy in his hands. There’s a light blue jewel at the base, and it gives Louis the inspiration for exactly how he’s going to pose his picture. 

Before he lets himself get too eager, he sets up his camera on a tripod and angles it at the corner of his bed, making sure it’s on and that the remote works so he doesn’t have to get up and fix anything with a plug in. 

Because he knows better than to think he’ll be in the right mind to focus on anything other than the toy at that point. 

He makes a quick trip to the bathroom to wash the toy, and then he’s rushing to the bed, plug in hand and shedding himself of his clothes along the way. Louis always gets a thrill in doing this, in exposing his body to the camera. It never fails to get him hard before he even has the lube out. 

Louis a  _ big  _ fan of sex. Whether with other people or on his own - it doesn’t matter. He’s a fan of feeling good, and the fact that all he has to do is take a few pictures of himself and send one off to get a nice wage slip is just an added benefit of the toys. He likes getting paid, he likes the free toys, but he  _ loves  _ the sex. 

Louis always keeps lube in his side table drawer. When he was younger and had more visitors in his bed, he kept one under his pillow as well, but now that it’s just him, there’s not that urgency that says  _ go, now, _ and  _ please _ . 

Though Louis definitely misses that. 

He has two fingers coated and inside of himself before he really even thinks about it. The first stretch - it’s easier than it was his very first time, but it still smarts - stings in the best way. He used to take his time, one finger easing itself inside at a time, but he’s learned that sometimes the stretch is exactly what he needs, and he enjoys feeling his walls clench and release at the motion.

He’s familiar with his prostate, made a good friend in it over the years, but he never actively seeks it out in the beginning. There’s some pleasure to be found in prolonged gratification, and Louis loves the wait. He loves bringing himself  _ just  _ to the edge of something, and then not letting himself fall over. 

Louis puts a third finger in, still cleverly avoiding his prostate, and continues to loosen himself up for the toy. When his hole feels relaxed, and Louis’ cock can’t possibly get any harder, he pulls his fingers out, gasping softly at the empty feeling, and rolls himself onto all fours. 

He adds a bit of lube to the plug and slowly eases it inside. His entire body is thrumming at the stretch, his blood pumping just barely beneath the surface as goosebumps decorate his skin. 

The toy itself isn't among the biggest Louis has ever seen. Hell, it isn’t even the biggest he's ever used, but the stretch is still there, still persistent and burning through him in the best possible way. It manages to nudge him in all the right places, and as Louis arches his back more, it slides in deeper. 

He looks behind himself to make sure the camera is aimed perfectly at his arse, and he reaches a prodding hand back to feel and make sure the blue jewel is visible. The added color will make the pictures far more delicate, and Louis doesn't want to have to go back and take more. 

Though there’s a chance he definitely wouldn't mind. 

He maintains his arch and grabs for the remote, letting his hand get lost in the sheets as the plug edges close enough to his prostate to have him wiggling for even the smallest amount of extra pressure.

His hand finally tenses around the remote, and he presses the button without thinking much about a pose. His waist is curved as far as it can go, and if the photo doesn't look great, it's alright. He's just out of it enough to risk a subpar photo, in exchange for not focusing on positioning himself much more.

He adjusts his position a bit and takes more pictures. He wants to give himself options for when he goes through the roll later. 

When he feels he's got a sufficient amount of material to go through, Louis drops the remote and clenches hard around the plug, loving the way it rubs him just right. 

Now he has to decide whether he wants to finish himself off now, beat off where he lies, or if he wants to go through the pictures and wait before he lets himself cum. He debates for a little, lazily moving his hips and enjoying the feel of the toy caressing his walls before he decides to go through the pictures. It'll help him choose faster, keeping him from lingering on small parts of himself he doesn't know if he likes, and it'll also make his climax that much stronger. 

After giving himself a minute to stop his hips from moving so he can stand up, he waddles his way over to his computer chair, camera in hand. He sits in the chair, landing harshly, and hisses at the way the plug jolts inside him. 

Louis goes through the pictures, deleting the ones he doesn’t like and adjusting the ones he does to make them look better. All the while, his hips are in constant motion, not ceasing on the pressure - the  _ pleasure _ \- the plug’s giving him. 

Deciding to just go for it, he chooses one that shows off his curves as well as the blue jewel on the bottom of the toy, saving the file to his hard drive, emailing it off to the company, and then making his way back to the bed. 

He rubs one out, quick and dirty, and collapses in a heap on top of the sheets. He eases the plug out, but doesn’t have enough energy to do much else. 

He’s asleep within moments. 

␥

Louis wakes up disoriented and confused. His phone is vibrating like crazy on his nightstand, stopping only to pick back up almost immediately. A glance at the clock tells Louis it’s well after midnight, so the calls must be important. 

Taking a moment to gather his bearings, Louis manages to pull himself out of his sleep state enough to reach for the phone. Immediately, he’s flooded with the light of his screen and the slew of notifications that are making his phone so angry. 

_ 9 missed calls _ _  
_ _ 28 new messages  _

Every one of them from Harry. 

Louis’ heart actually stops in his chest. The agenda was supposed to be emailed off  _ hours _ ago, and Louis didn’t even go over it. 

It doesn’t matter, Louis tells himself; this will be fine. He rushes to his laptop and sends off the file. The messages and calls stop coming in, but the pressure on his chest doesn’t ease. He goes back to bed and falls asleep, still feeling the panic swallowing him whole. 

He’s not looking forward to Monday morning, but he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. 

␥

Louis arrives early to the office on Monday morning, and he’s completely on edge. He knows how late he was with the schedule, and he knows how harshly Harry’s going to ream him out this morning. It’s all he can think about. His entire body is stacked with fear of whatever punishment Harry sees fit for being so completely late on his deadline. 

He’ll probably fire Louis.

And he’ll have probable cause to do so. It was only a week ago that Louis was in this very office, being told that his insufficiency to meet deadlines was unacceptable. Instead of taking those notes and improving his skills, what does Louis do? That’s right, he completes his task even  _ later _ than usual. 

At this point, if Harry came into the office, guns ablazing, wielding a P45 with Louis’ name on it, there wouldn’t be any surprise. 

For anybody. 

Harry comes into the room loudly, jolting Louis out of his thoughts. He completely ignores Louis, where he’s standing in front of the desk. He doesn’t open any of the files or even so much as glance at his schedule for the day. All of Louis’ hard work this morning is completely disregarded as Harry tensely puts his bag on the side of the desk. 

His coffee turns cold in Louis’ hand. 

“Sit down,” Harry bites immediately. Louis falls into the chair behind him on reflex and is forced to watch listlessly as Harry walks around the desk, snatches the drink from Louis’ hand and promptly drops it into the small garbage can on the side of the desk. 

“Sir - ”

“Tell me about this weekend, Louis.”

Louis’ mouth immediately snaps shut. He knew this was coming, expected it, but seeing Harry so close up, displaying an emotion that Louis can’t even identify - it’s all so terrifying. 

“I, uh,” Louis stutters, but Harry doesn’t budge. He doesn’t jump in to interrupt Louis or make a move to answer his own question. He’s staying absolutely silent, and Louis doesn’t know what to think of it. “I didn’t get the agenda in on time.”

Harry laughs humorlessly, a cynical edge taking over his features. “Oh, you sure as hell did not. Why is that?” 

“I fell asleep, sir,” Louis answers. He’s avoiding eye contact, too afraid that when he looks up, Harry will be ready to fire him on the spot. “I woke up to your messages and sent off the email as fast as I could.”

Harry hums from where he stands above Louis, and there’s slight relief from the intensity of his presence when he walks back around the desk. “And yet, I  _ still _ did not get my agenda. Do you know why?” 

Louis finally looks up at that, and he’s sure his face conveys all of the confusion he’s feeling. Harry doesn’t look to be joking, but Louis figures he has to be. He may have emailed Harry 8 hours after the deadline, but the schedule  _ was _ sent. 

“Louis, come stand over here.”

He’s standing before the words really even hit him. Harry’s eyes are hard, and Louis’ mind is still racing with questions, but he finds his feet moving to do as Harry instructed. 

The moment he’s standing in front of Harry, his boss’ hand comes down hard on the back of Louis’ neck, and the next thing he knows, his chest is parallel to the top of the desk, and his head is sideways, his stare focused on the door to the office. 

“S-sir?” 

“Be good and stay down for me, Louis.”

Thoughts are racing through Louis’ head. He’s confused about what’s happening - about why Harry never got the agenda, and why he reacted in such a way, and why Louis’ body  _ loves _ the rough treatment so much. 

The whole thing lacks clarity from Louis’ point of view, and it’s almost frustrating, the way that nothing is seeming to tie together. It’s as if he woke up in a entirely separate universe from his own, and the other Louis royally fucked everything up. 

Suddenly Harry’s phone is in his face. The screen is displaying his inbox, and Louis’ email is starred, highlighted, and sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of everything else. The subject line reads ‘ _ Octobrt 23 week agen Da _ ’, and Louis wants to cringe at how his tired mind must have really been rushing to get the email sent. Harry’s thumb presses on the screen, and Louis’ email pops up. 

Everything seems to be normal. There are a few misspellings in Louis’ apology for being late, and there’s a disclaimer that he didn’t go through and double check the dates, but other than that it’s nothing too different from the usual. There’s even an attachment at the bottom, which leaves Louis even more confused because that means he  _ did _ send the agenda, and Harry must’ve been - 

“Oh God.” Louis feels all of the air leave his body, deflating him into a disgraced mess, when Harry clicks on the attachment. 

“I definitely wasn’t expecting  _ this _ when i checked my inbox.”

Harry’s far closer than he was before, and his grip on Louis’ neck tenses. It’s not too hard as to cause bruising or truly hurt, but it’s a persistent weight on his neck, and it’s scaring the shit out of Louis. Sure, for all the time he’s worked here, there’ve definitely been some fantasies in which something like this happened, but being here in the aftermath of accidentally sending his boss a nude photo of his plugged arse… 

The whole thing screams Workplace Sexual Harassment Lawsuit. 

“Sir, I can explain - ”

“Can you?” Harry cuts him off. His voice is rough, and his movements are stiff as he shuffles in closer so his lower body is lined up tight against Louis. “Because it’s Monday morning, my day starts in twenty minutes, and I haven’t the slightest clue about what I’m getting into today. All I have is a close up of your arse with a pretty blue plug stuffed inside it. Can you explain that, Louis?”

Louis is completely mortified. He struggles to get up, but there’s no way he can do it. There’ve always been daydreams in his head of Harry bending him over his desk, but this is  _ humiliating _ and not of the same intrigue as his thoughts. 

Louis wishes he could melt into the ground. 

Harry backs away slightly, and Louis takes the opportunity to try and get up. It clearly doesn’t work, not with Harry’s hands still holding him down, and Harry’s voice is soon insistent in the background. “I asked you a question, Louis. Can you explain that?”

“I - ”

Louis hears it before he feels Harry’s hand slamming down on his clothed arse, and he can’t seem to make a noise in reaction. It’s sudden, and it steals the breath from Louis’ lungs and the thoughts from his head. He’s having trouble grasping if it actually just happened. 

“What was that?”

A moment passes and nothing happens. Louis lets his heart rate settle before clearing his throat and trying to answer the question again. “I accid - ”

Harry’s hand slams down again, promptly cutting off Louis’ words. He gasps with the motion this time, and while a part of him is excited that this moment is sort of a fantasy come to life, he can’t help but feel like screaming out in confusion and frustration because this is his  _ boss _ .

“I don’t think it was an accident, love,” Harry says. “I think you’ve wanted me to see you like that for a while.”

“I didn’t mean to - ”

Harry spanks him again, and Louis whines with it. “I’ll tell you what Louis. We can let this go, and I can write you up for not sending in the schedule. I’ll send you out, and you’ll do your work and not be late on your email again.”

Louis nods, considering what he’s saying, but as he’s listening his back is slightly arching in anticipation of another slap. Harry chuckles, and Louis flushes at the thought that he can sense the urge Louis feels to have Harry’s hand on him again. 

“Or I can write you up for not sending the schedule, but give you a little extra punishment as well.”

Louis’ back is still arched, and he’s staring at where the door to the office is closed. His desk is just on the other side of it. He can go there and continue his work day. Or he can stay and… 

“Your move, love.” Harry removes his hand from Louis’ neck, and Louis turns it to crack it a bit. He looks at the door again, contemplates, and then sighs and falls into the desk. He’s made his choice, and he doubts he’ll regret it. “Smart choice.”

␥

Harry passes by Louis’ desk around lunchtime. He has an hour before his next meeting, and Louis plans on taking full advantage of the situation to see if he can finish himself off. 

He thinks they would’ve been able to earlier, but as soon as Louis was ready to throw caution to the wind and dive in head first, Harry was called into his first meeting early, and Louis was left high and dry.  

Sitting alone at his desk as he answered calls and tried to do his work is far more difficult than he thought it would be. It took some time before he cooled off enough for his erection to go down, but he was finally in a state that felt more appropriate for work. Although, just because his body was feeling more relaxed, doesn’t mean that his mind is at ease. 

Just the opposite, in fact. All Louis can think about now is the feeling of Harry’s hands on his body, prodding around and lighting him aflame. 

Louis follows Harry into his office, notebook in hand for appearances sake, and locks the door behind them. 

Harry knows Louis is in the room with him - he  _ has  _ to - but he doesn’t address him until he’s sitting at his desk, files in a stack in front of him. “Can I help you, Louis?”

“Uh,” Louis starts, “yes, sir.” He doesn’t say anything else, not sure exactly how he wants to phrase it. There’s not exactly proper workplace etiquette for asking your supervisor if you can rub one out at work. 

The silence runs on for a while, and Harry looks up from his work. “What is it?”

“I was wondering if we could…”

“If we could what?” Harry prompts after Louis trails off. Louis responds, quietly, just a mumble of a thing, and Harry looks visibly irritated at the problems he’s having communicating. “You’ll have to speak up, Louis. And quicker, please. I only have a bit of time to get these files in order.”

“I was wondering, um,” he clears his throat, trying to make it easier on himself to ask. If only he weren’t so damn awkward about this. “I was hoping we could finish what we started earlier.”

Harry closes his file at that, leaning back in his chair and levelling Louis with a look. “Is that right?” Louis nods eagerly. He can feel his cock filling up in his slacks, stealing his blood flow and directing it to the only head he’s currently capable of thinking with. “And what exactly did we start earlier?”

Louis’ cheeks heat up. He didn’t expect to have to fully explain everything to Harry, not after only three hours. “I, uh well, you had,” he swallows dry, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. “You had me…” 

“I had you where?”

“Bent - ” he takes a moment to get his mind in the right place. “Bent over your desk.” Harry nods. “You had me bent - ”

“Bent over my desk, yes, I remember,” Harry interrupts. He seems to be completely casual, and it’s driving Louis insane, how in-control he is. “But I also remember finishing that.”

Louis blushes even harder at that, his hands clenching where they lie latched around his notebook. His cock is completely hard at this point. 

“Did we not finish, Louis?” Harry asks rhetorically. He completely railroads over Louis’ mumbled response, continuing, “I can’t hear you, Louis. You’ll have to speak up or else you should leave.”

“I didn’t cum,” Louis repeats. It echoes around the office, and Louis wants to curl up into a ball at the way Harry smirks. 

“You didn’t.” It’s not a question. Harry sounds pleased, but Louis still shakes his head no. “Well I should hope not. I didn’t say you could.”

Louis hands are sweaty and his legs are shaking. His entire body just wants to leave, to take this to the bathroom and finish himself off, but the amused glint in Harry’s eyes and the cruel tilt to his mouth keep Louis standing there and wanting more. “I would like to.”

“You would like to what?”

“To cum, sir.”

“Well you’re hardly making any effort to ask,” Harry points out, and Louis catches his bottom lip between his teeth at the bored tone. “It’s like pulling teeth to get you speak.”

Louis looks down at the wood of the desk. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Harry sighs, “I’m not feeling very generous right now, Louis, so I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“Sir - ”

“Maybe if you try a little harder,” he adds, “I could be persuaded.”

Louis watches as Harry’s thighs widen in his seat, and he all but stumbles over his own feet to get around the desk. He’d be a damn liar if he said he hadn’t been thinking of getting his mouth around his boss’ cock since just about day one on the job. There’s something about the authority Harry holds paired with being the most attractive person Louis thinks he’s ever seen. 

He gets to his knees easily, not wanting to seem too reckless, not wanting to do  _ anything _ to make Harry rethink allowing Louis the privilege he’s been given. 

Harry takes care of his belt, but Louis undoes the zipper, and the thick, hard line of Harry’s cock is resting in Louis’ palm before long. 

He takes his time, pressing a kiss to the head, playing with the slit using only his tongue, and memorizing the taste of the bead of pre-cum that wells up. His hand settles at the base of Harry’s cock, and he wraps his fingers around the girth of it, loving the solid weight of it resting in his small palm. 

Louis learns that Harry likes it when he traces the flat of his tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock, so he does that, just feels the way Harry’s thighs tense around his upper body in an attempt to keep control. 

Though Louis  _ really  _ wouldn’t mind if Harry couldn’t. 

Louis is sucking at a more measured pace now, lips moving up and down the length in a bobbing rhythm. Harry’s hand comes up to cup his cheekbones, long fingers pressing just under the edge of them to feel where his cock is gliding in and out of Louis’ mouth. His thumb traces the shape before his hand settles in Louis’ hair, simply resting there. 

Louis curls his tongue over the head, dipping to trace the edges of Harry’s foreskin before taking the entire length in his mouth again. 

He can feel Harry trembling with the effort it takes not to thrust blindly into the wet heat of Louis’ mouth. His head is thrown back, and he’s fisting strands of Louis’ hair in his grip. It’s fine, he definitely doesn’t mind the sting of it, but it just further emphasizes the point that he can’t cum yet. 

Louis brings one of his hands up to cup Harry’s hip, coaxing them up in a thrust. “ _ Jesus _ ” he hears Harry groan. He begins to move, cock sliding in and out of Louis’ mouth, the tip of it hitting the back of his throat with every thrust.  

Louis’ own neglected cock lies heavy and hard in his slacks. He reaches down blindly with a fumbling hand to undo his fly, but Harry’s shoe knocks his hand out of the way, prompting Louis to whine around the cock in his mouth. 

The hand Harry has in Louis’ hair tightens and tugs his mouth away. “Louis, I’m going to - ”

Louis makes a sound of displeasure, pushing back against Harry’s hand, which eventually falls away. He goes back to the task at hand, sucking and licking and bobbing for all he’s worth, feeling and  _ tasting _ the exact moment Harry climaxes, muscles straining and cock throbbing. 

He swallows everything, holding Harry in his mouth even after he’s stopped cumming. Harry hauls him up so that he’s straddling his lap, the two of them sharing the desk chair. 

“Sir,” Louis starts, clearing his throat, trying not to show just how wrecked his voice is. “Can I?”

Harry considers Louis, looks over his body, sees the way Louis’ straining in his pants. He wipes the bottom of Louis’ lip and puts his thumb in Louis’ mouth. Louis licks the salty tang of Harry’s release off of his thumb. 

Harry doesn’t answer, so Louis goes to grope himself, but Harry’s hand reaches out and stops his wrist. “Ask me again tomorrow,” he says. 

Louis whines, unhappy with the answer, but Harry levels him with a look and sends him out of the office, cock still hard as stone.  

It’s going to be a  _ long _ day. 

␥

Louis arrives early on Tuesday as well. He doesn’t sort out any files or print out the daily agenda - those tasks are more sorted for Monday morning after a rather tough weekend. 

He  _ does _ get Harry’s coffee, but that’s just to occupy himself; he knows if he’s left to his own devices, he’ll shake out of his skin. He’s been a nervous mess all night, unable to keep his hands to himself, and he just needs his boss in here to tell him he’s allowed to cum and… 

This is a lot more fucked up than he’d originally thought. 

When Harry gets in the office, he simpers at the sight of Louis before walking over and dropping his bag at the side of the desk. “You’re early.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry hums, taking his computer out and setting it on his empty desk. “I don’t see my schedule for the day,” he observes. “Or my client files.”

Louis places the paper cup down on Harry’s desk, a safe enough distance from his computer screen. “I got you coffee.”

“Is this to make up for the coffee that you  _ didn’t _ get me yesterday?” Harry wonders out loud. “Because you’ve been doing a lot of making up for yourself this week, Louis, and I don’t like employees playing catch-up with their tasks.”

Louis bites his tongue against reminding Harry that he actually _did_ bring a coffee, but it was thrown away just moments before Louis found himself face down on his boss’ desk. 

“You’re right, sir,” Louis nods. “I’m very sorry.”

Harry laughs lightly to himself, and Louis wants to shrink into the hardwood flooring at the sound. “Very sorry,” he repeats. “You’re saying sorry a lot, too, love. One of these days it’s going to start sounding like you don’t mean it.”

Harry goes to work on his computer, and Louis is left standing still, trying to work up the nerve to say what he wants to. 

He doesn’t know what it is about the man, but something about the authority he holds has Louis unable to say even the simplest of things. Were it anyone else in the world, he think he’d be able to hold his own in an argument, but Harry Styles make him want to sink to his knees just because being at eye level is far too intimidating. 

Harry looks up from his computer and sees Louis’ anxious posture. He sighs and leans back from his computer. “Louis, we’ve talked about this. If you want something just ask for it. I don’t have time to deal with you beating around the bush.”

“Sorry, sir,” Louis apologizes - something he finds himself doing a lot of lately. “I was just wondering if we could finish what was started yesterday.”

He cringes at the repeat of his words from the last time he was in here to ask something, but Harry smirks. “And what  _ was _ started yesterday, Louis?”

Louis takes a deep breath and has to center himself to speak again. It’s almost irritating how far Harry can push him. “I would like to cum, sir.”

“There we go! That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, sir.” He’s blushing like a madman at the wide grin Harry’s displaying. His dimples are on full display, and he’s looking at Louis like he’s something special. Louis wants to squirm out of his skin from it.

“As proud of you as I am for asking, I can’t let you,” he answers. “Not just yet.”

Louis huffs, “Sir - ”

“Now before you get angry and do anything that might make me question letting you cum at all today, I have a surprise for you.” Harry gestures to the table as he closes his computer and moves it out of the way. There’s now an empty space in the center of the desk, in front of Harry’s chair, and Louis knows what he wants. 

He sighs and stomps his way over to the table before bending over it, making sure to be as bratty as he possibly can with it. He just wants to cum, he didn’t ask Harry to be  _ cute _ about it.

“Now, now, Louis,” Harry tuts. “Is that any way to react when someone has brought you a gift?”

“Well maybe if I could s _ ee _ \- ”

Harry’s hand comes down hard, something Louis expected but was still surprised by. He winces moreso at the sound than the feel. “Don’t give me an attitude today. I’m having a wonderful morning, and your mouthiness won’t ruin that for me.” 

Harry’s fingers skirt around the waistband of Louis’ slacks, and Louis lifts his lower body up to assist. He isn’t sure what Harry’s “surprise” is, but maybe if he goes along with everything, he’ll be able to cum before the end of his shift. 

He’s blessed by the feeling of Harry’s thick thumb catching on the skin of his hole, bare now that he’s pulled Louis’ slacks and pants to his knees. His finger doesn’t stay there for long, just a fond motion before Harry’s warm hand disappears completely. 

Louis is expecting another slap to reign down, but nothing happens, and for a moment Louis thinks Harry’s walked away. He hasn’t, though, made known by the sound of something popping. He knows what the opening of a bottle sounds like, and he isn’t exactly naive when it comes to sex, so he’s almost positive that it’s lube. He’s certain that Harry Styles, his  _ boss _ , brought lube to work, specifically with the thought of Louis bent over his desk in mind. 

If Louis weren’t already slightly hard, this would be enough to get things moving. 

He’s relaxed as Harry fingers him. He’s somewhat of a professional when it comes to easing into the movement. Even when Harry’s nimble fingers tease along the edges of his prostate, Louis manages to stay mostly still, his casual movements stopped by Harry’s palm on his hip.

Louis doesn’t even realize that there’s something bigger coming until Harry’s fingers slip out of Louis’ hole and are replaced by the “surprise.”

“Sir - ”

Harry shushes Louis’ quiet protest as he takes his time easing what Louis is confident is a plug into him. “I tried finding the one from the picture,” Harry explains, “but this was the closest that they had.” Louis nods as the thick part slides in and his mouth drops open, the feeling mimicking exactly what it did to his arse. “It’s all blue - like your eyes.”

Louis has to tune Harry out. There’s no way he’ll be able to concentrate on something as trivial as words with the pressure of the weight teasing Louis’ most sensitive area. He’s helpless to just lie bent over Harry’s desk, wide-eyed and open-mouthed trying to get the plug deeper, taking in gasps of air, while Harry just stands there and watches Louis try and fail to get the plug exactly where it needs to be. 

Eventually he gets tired of working for the right angle and tries to reach his hand down, but Harry deters it with his own. 

“If you could go the rest of the day with this in, I’d be very thankful, love,” Harry voice is light and makes Louis feel lightheaded. “Do you want to try and do that for me?”

“I - ” Louis clears his throat and arches his back again, shifting the plug’s weight around. “I...” 

“It’s alright if you don’t, Louis,” Harry continues. His hand drops to Louis’ tailbone and centers him kindly. “I can take it out, get you off, and we can start our day easy as anything.” Louis starts nodding, but then Harry leans into Louis’ ear and lets his soft voice caress the air around them. “But if you keep it in all day,” Harry’s lower half shoves against Louis’ arse, nudging the plug with his not-so-soft clothed cock, “I have an even better present for you.” 

Louis nods eagerly at the promise. “Yes, sir.”

“You’ll keep it in then?” Harry asks as if it was ever even a question in the first place. “Show me how good you are?”

“Yes, sir.”

He makes a pleased sound and helps Louis to pull his pants up. He stops with the waistband just under Louis’ bum and allows himself to tap the end of the plug twice, enjoying the way it seems to set Louis’ nerves alight.  

“Alright, Louis,” Harry says when Louis is as presentable as he possibly could be in the condition he’s in. “Get to work” He pats his hand against Louis’ bum and uses it to push him forward.

Louis whines and waddles his way out of the room, careful not to get too caught up in the way the plug rubs against him or the way his cock rubs against his pants. All in all, the productivity of the day is not looking promising. 

␥

Louis tries to focus on his work, but it’s impossible. Of all his working years, and even his school years, he’s never been as thoroughly distracted as he is now. The constant pressure of the plug just edging on the perfect place is enough to drive Louis crazy. It gets worse when the plug actually _ does _ nudge his prostate and sends electric shocks through his body. After that, he spends another five minutes attempting to emulate the move and feel the same. 

It’s an exhausting eight hours. 

Even when things start to calm down, and the feelings ebb away, leaving Louis with enough focus to try and get some work done, something happens that pushes him back into the endless circle of unfulfilled pleasure. 

He’s particularly upset when he manages to calm himself down and get halfway through an email to one of the company’s biggest donators and his laptop flashes its low battery. All it takes is Louis having to stand and grab the charger to have the plug bringing him back to the edge of something great. 

Searching for files and running to grab a quick lunch, tasks that shouldn’t take more than five minutes take triple that just because of the “surprise” Louis is hiding. 

He thinks the worst part must be that the humiliation of possibly being caught by a client or a co-worker only adds to the experience of it all. The pleasure is hard enough to deal with, but the intrusive thoughts that everyone he talks to  _ must _ know what’s going on is near enough to push Louis to the edge.

Louis knows he could easily go to the bathroom and manually push the plug where it needs to be, he could easily work himself over in a stall and be back to normal. It would all take less than ten minutes, but Louis wants to be good for Harry. There’s a burning need inside of him to do what Harry asked of him, to wait until the end of the shift. His climax ultimately won’t be  _ that _ much better just by waiting an extra few hours, but the look on Harry’s face  _ will _ be. That’s what the pay off is for Louis - making Harry proud, to not let him regret everything that’s happened in the last day and a half. 

Though there are a few moments that have Louis questioning why he’s even trying at all. Ultimately, he’s in the building to work, and it’s a pretty difficult task to complete when every time he answers the phone, he’s a shaking mess. Scheduling meetings and asking for donations isn’t exactly easy when Louis is thirty seconds from moaning just by picking up the goddamn phone. 

The weight of it all - physical  _ and _ mental - has started to take its toll on Louis when the clock hits a quarter to six, and he’s technically off, his shift about to end. 

The very moment he realizes, he closes his laptop and storms into Harry’s office, barely taking the time to haphazardly lock it behind him. 

Harry jumps at Louis’ sudden presence, but a teasing grin takes over his face that Louis wants desperately to wipe off. “Louis,” his voice warns, “there’s still three minutes left in the work day.”

“I don’t care.”

Louis throws himself onto Harry and kisses him - briefly. There’s a moment in which the chair rocks backward with the motion, and the weight of them together almost sends it over. 

Harry breaks apart to laugh at that. “Eager much?” 

Louis rolls his eyes at what Harry probably thinks is funny and brings his mouth back up to Harry’s. His body has been taken too far in the last eight hours to waste even a moment. There’s not one inch of him that isn’t begging to have Harry inside of him - the promise of getting to cum a close second on his mind. 

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” he finds himself chanting against Harry’s lips, his hips slowly grinding against Harry. Every time their clothed cocks rub against each other, it’s another reminder that they aren’t going as far as they could be. 

Louis drops his hand to the button of his slacks and undoes them. It’s the toughest time he’s ever had in trying to pull them down and still keep his mouth attached to Harry, not wanting to disconnect from his boss for even a moment. 

Harry seems to sense the urgency and helps Louis. He eases Louis out of his trousers and pants, discarding them sloppily on the floor. He does briefly stop kissing Louis, but Louis takes it as an invitation to latch himself onto Harry’s neck and leave small bites along his collar. 

Harry doesn’t take his pants off completely. He pulls them down enough to expose his cock and then pulls Louis onto his lap. 

The movement, along with Harry’s hands on his bum, push the plug into the perfect angle, and Louis all but melts into him. It reminds them both of the small barrier between them and actually getting what they both want, and Harry tries to maneuver Louis into a sitting position that gives him access to the plug. 

Harry eases it out, and Louis all but whines at the loss. He knows that it’ll be replaced by something much better soon enough, but the empty feeling is enough to have Louis deflating into Harry’s body. 

Harry sets the plug on the desk behind Louis, and he’s finally able to see the soft blue color of it. It does match his eyes, and if Louis thinks too hard about how Harry considered that as he bought it, things might get a bit too emotional. 

Harry reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out the lube from earlier as well as a condom. Louis has to stop himself from moaning at the sight. He’s excited. After so long of dreaming and waiting, Harry Styles is not just a fantasy anymore. This is finally and actually happening. 

Louis lifts himself to his knees and slowly lowers himself onto Harry’s cock, which the other man is holding still for him. He doesn’t immediately drop down, wanting to take his time and savor the feeling of it. He’s imagined a thousand times over what Harry’s cock would feel like inside him, and now that he’s finally getting it, he’d be a fool to not slow down and enjoy the weighty thickness of it. 

Once he’s sunk all the way down and taken a moment to catch his breath, Louis really goes for it, using the armrests of the chair to lift himself up and drop down. He starts slow and gradually works up speed, to where he’s slamming up and down. 

Harry doesn’t do much, yet, lax to let Louis take over. A few times he lets his hands wander Louis’ frame, before heading back to where they’re casually resting on Louis’ thighs, but other than that he lets Louis do most of the work.

And it’s fine at first, Louis enjoys having the control to work himself over and use Harry to get off, but he can’t seem to get the right angle - or keep it when he thinks he found a motion that works. His arms and thighs both ache, the effort too much, the work not quite paying off, and he’s becoming exhausted. 

He falls into Harry once he can’t hold himself up any longer. Louis’ entire body collapses, and Harry takes over. He lifts his hips up a few times, but, with the way Louis is seated, it doesn’t work. So Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ lithe frame and lifts him up. It’s a short walk to the desk, and just as soon as Harry lays Louis down he starts hammering into him. They’ve gone from riding to a simple missionary position, but it works. This may be vanilla, but Louis is flying. 

Harry knows exactly how to use his hips, slows them down and speeds them up in kind. It’s as though he’s playing Louis’ body like a finely tuned instrument. 

Louis knows sex, he  _ loves _ it, but no toy could ever compare to the feeling of Harry’s cock thick and full, just  _ taking _ from Louis. Harry flirts just on the edge of  _ too much _ and  _ not enough _ , working them both in just the right way. 

Its builds and builds and soon, the feeling of the unforgiving wood beneath his back along with Harry’s hand working over Louis’ cock have him cumming quickly. Harry’s only a bit behind on the trigger. 

The two take their time catching their breath as Harry goes soft inside Louis. Louis takes a moment after Harry’s pulled himself out before speaking. “That was so worth the wait.”

“Maybe for you,” Harry hums, tying the condom up and dropping it in the rubbish bin. “I’ve been waiting since the minute I hired you.”

“Yeah?”

Harry seems to consider it, his lips pursed together as he thinks it over. “Not exactly waiting. I was convincing myself I couldn’t have you.”

“That’s sweet,” Louis coos, smiling at the thought of Harry telling himself that Louis wasn’t available. “Very wrong though. I think it’s been made obvious just how easily you can have me.” 

“That’s true.” Harry’s hands grip tightly at Louis’ thighs, and Louis has to swallow so as not to suggest a round two. It’s too soon, and being in the office this long might start to look suspicious. He just has to let himself enjoy the feeling of Harry’s touch and not let his thoughts wander too far. “You kind of just bend over at the sight of authority.”

Louis laughs out loud, loving that Harry’s showing a sense of humor and not letting things get awkward. “I do not!” 

“You do,” Harry insists. “If I told you to bring me a coffee right now, you’d just about climax on the spot.” His fingers start to dance up Louis’ thighs towards where he’s empty and clenching.

“Shut up!” Louis’ exasperation has Harry grinning, but there’s a concentration about him where he’s looking at Louis’ hole. “Should we talk about how obsessed you are with my arse?”

“We should  _ absolutely _ talk about how obsessed I am with you arse,” Harry agrees, nodding eagerly. “Care to demonstrate?” His palms come to Louis’ hips in an attempt to flip him over, and Louis has a hard time fighting off Harry’s wandering hands when he’s laughing so hard.

It’s hard to protest when everything is so light and wonderful. 

␥

Louis can hear his phone going crazy in his room. He ignores it in favor of going over the schedule slowly. It’s 8:03 pm and He’s just barely past the deadline. It  _ is _ late, though, and Louis has no doubt in his mind that Harry will be upset with him. 

He just hopes it’s enough to earn Harry’s tongue this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on:  
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/sapphicbee) | [Tumblr](http://aceniall.tumblr.com)


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